


Shiny & New

by cholera



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: First Time, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-07
Updated: 2011-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cholera/pseuds/cholera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard never pictured losing his virginity quite like this. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiny & New

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [so_many_fandoms](http://so-many-fandoms.livejournal.com/)'s [Random Pairing Generator Fic Challenge](http://so-many-fandoms.livejournal.com/47375.html) (although finished far, far too late for it). My generated pairing/prompt was _Gerard Way / Frank Iero / first time_. I know, right? How could I _not_ write it? Many thanks for the cheerleading and invaluable help from [elf_skitzo](http://elf-skitzo.livejournal.com/)! Title from Madonna's _Like a Virgin_. Approx. 5,000 words.

Gerard was pretty sure everyone had some idea of how they wanted to lose their virginity. Nobody wanted it to hurt, after all, unless they were self-aware enough to know they were into that sort of thing. Which was cool, y’know, Gerard could dig it. But that wasn’t him, he knew that.

He figured most girls wanted it to be this special, romantic, magical moment, where everything was soft around the edges and it didn’t hurt, and the guy was experienced (but not slutty) and gentle (but not delicate). Some guys probably wanted it to be, like, fucking fireworks and like some sort of high, with either a buxom beauty (for the straight ones) or an Italian stallion (for the queers like Gerard, although he wasn’t as ethnically picky as some could be).

He wanted his first time to be awesome. He was realistic enough to know that there’d be no magic. He knew it’d hurt at least a little (hello, that hole was technically an _exit_ , he’d taken biology, thank you very fucking much). He also knew that guys were guys, and being a guy himself, knew exactly how driven by sexsexsex a guy’s brain was. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want it to be meaningful, too, and maybe that was the artist in him. He thought about it a lot, though. And maybe the fact that a nineteen year old virgin still living in his parents’ basement was thinking up ways to lose his virginity — instead of actually, y’know, _having sex_ — was really fucking lame, but it wasn’t like he had people readily available for that sort of thing. He lived _at home_ , with his brother and his brother’s dorky friends as his main source of social interaction. So, he ruminated, instead.

How it played out in his little fantasy was different every time. Sometimes it was in a candlelit hotel room with George Clooney and flowers on the floor around the bed (shut up, he was totally romantic sometimes). Sometimes it was on a waterbed with Liam Neeson and a radio playing quietly. Sometimes it was outside, on soft, cool grass with Eric Dane and the stars above. (So maybe Gerard had a thing for rugged older men. Shut up.)

Never once had he fantasized that it would happen on his shitty mattress in his shitty basement with Frank Iero.

Except that was exactly how it happened.

Here was the thing: Frank was kind of a dick. It wasn’t like he meant to be, according to Mikey, anyway. He just kinda seemed to have no filter. Like, at all. He said some pretty abrasive shit sometimes, and he could be mocking and rude — sometimes downright _cruel_ , most especially when you did something he didn’t like, or when he thought you were an idiot because you didn’t know something that seemed obvious or important to him. Gerard had thankfully not yet been the subject of such reactions, but Frank still teased him a lot. A _lot_. And sometimes it stung a little.

Gerard had asked Mikey one day why he was friends with someone like that.

“He just doesn’t really know how he sounds when he says shit,” Mikey had said.

And Gerard got it, he did. He knew how it was, when the words in your head weren’t the same as the ones coming out of your mouth — but at least he wasn’t a _dick_ about it.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mikey had continued. “Once you get to know him it’s not so bad.”

But Gerard didn’t really want to get to know him. Gerard wasn’t sure he wanted a friend whose abrasive, loud personality was something you had to _get used to_. Gerard firmly believed that if people didn’t mesh well after meeting each other a few times, it just wasn’t meant to be.

He’d ended up just dropping the subject, because once Mikey decided you were his friend, he was loyal to a fucking _fault_ and seemed to suddenly just stop seeing major character flaws, such as being an asshole. They’d ended up talking about other things, like the comic Gerard wanted to have published and maybe turned into a movie, and the possibility of _Alien_ being an allegory for male rape.

He’d essentially put Frank from his mind, then, or at least insofar as he could when the dude was around all the fucking time. (Summers sometimes sucked. Sometimes.)

On the day in question, Frank and Mikey had gone out early to try to get some new release CD. They’d come back and blared it loudly enough that the windows rattled a bit, and Gerard had disappeared into his room and put on his noise-cancelling headphones so he could draw in peace.

Some time later, there was a tap on his shoulder. Gerard screeched and spun, swinging his sketchbook as he went. He would never survive a horror film. Frank’s hastily raised arm not only blocked the book, but sent it to the floor when it bounced hard off him and slipped from Gerard’s hands. Frank crossed his arms over his chest, eyebrow lifting. Gerard was pretty sure it was a look he’d adopted from Mikey. (It looked hotter on Frank. Gerard would never admit it.)

“Fuck, you _scared_ me,” he scolded.

His voice sounded funny, far away. Frank’s mouth moved mutely. Gerard frowned at him, so Frank rolled his eyes, giggled, and reached for Gerard’s head. His first instinct was to jerk back, but Frank only gripped his headphones and pulled them away from his head.

“You’re yelling, Numb-nuts,” he said, then released them so they snapped against Gerard’s ears with a _thwack_.

“. . . Fucking _ow_ , Asshole,” Gerard grumbled. He pulled his headphones off and rubbed his ears. Frank giggled that high pitched giggle of his, and Gerard glared. Gerard was pretty good at glaring.

Frank just stuck his tongue out at him. Gerard obviously needed to work on his glare.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Mikey?” Gerard asked, affecting a weary tone. He bent over to pick up his sketchbook and thumbed through the pages to make sure none of them were damaged as he straightened up.

“He left,” Frank said simply. He sidled up to Gerard’s unmade bed, eying the sheets like maybe their cleanliness was suspect. Then he shrugged to himself and flopped onto the mattress.

“What d’you mean, ‘he left’?” Gerard asked with a frown. “I thought he was supposed to be hanging out with you all day.”

“Well, first of all, it’s not technically _day_ anymore,” Frank said with a snort. He wormed around on the bed, making himself comfortable. “And anyway, I guess he’s hooking up with that chick he met at the record store today. Your brother’s sort of a slut, Dude.”

Gerard looked at Frank with a frown, like he wanted to argue. Then he sighed and shelved the protective older brother act.

“My brother is totally a slut,” he agreed. He looked down at his lap mournfully. Then he shook his head and looked at Frank. “So, if Mikey’s gone, why are you still here?”

“Wow, _rude_ ,” Frank said with a laugh. “Maybe I wanted the pleasure of your fucking company, Dickwad, ever think of that?”

Gerard scoffed.

“Asshole,” Frank groused with another laugh. Shit, the guy just seemed _happy_. Then he sobered a little. “I don’t feel like going home, I guess. Shit’s weird there; my parents’re fighting all the time.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I think they’re gonna split up. I dunno.”

Gerard opened his mouth, then closed it again. What could he say? ‘Sorry?’ If his parents were fighting enough that it seemed like splitting up was the only option, he’d spit in the eye of whoever said ‘sorry’ to him for it. And Frank was more of a fighter than Gerard, so he doubted he’d get off so lightly on a dick ‘sorry.’

Frank seemed to understand his predicament, because he looked up at Gerard, offered a crooked smile, and shrugged again.

“Hey, whatever, right? So, is it okay if I stay for awhile?”

How the fuck could Gerard say no after that?

“Sure, I guess,” he said. Wryly, he added, “I’d tell you to make yourself comfortable, but, y’know. Looks like you already _have_.”

Frank grinned widely at him, so wide his eyes scrunched and tendons popped out in his neck. It was a stupid fucking look, and Gerard laughed. Frank softened the grin into a smile, then looked down and shrugged again.

“So, like, a couple days ago, Mikey was saying you were coming with us when the album dropped,” he said. Gerard thought he was trying too hard to sound casual, propped up on one elbow, eyes focused on the sheets and drawing patterns into them with his finger. Gerard tried not to frown. “But, like, you didn’t. How come?”

“Oh. I dunno.” Gerard shrugged. “It wasn’t really my thing, I guess.”

Frank frowned, looking up at him. “I thought you _liked_ Brit-pop.” He looked confused, and a little frustrated, and Gerard braced himself for the inevitable abrasive teasing. But then Frank looked away, shrugging his shoulder. “I mean, Mikey said you did.”

“Oh,” Gerard said again. “I mean, well, I do. It’s just. Crowds. People. _Public_.” He shuddered exaggeratedly, and Frank laughed.

“You’re fuckin’ weird, Man,” he said.

“Yes,” Gerard agreed. “But we all knew this.”

Frank laughed, then sat up and started talking about the album. He was animated and passionate the more he relaxed and got into it. And he was _smart_ , too, Gerard noted. When it came to music, Frank knew more than even Mikey did — and Mikey was no idiot. It was nice to see Frank getting excited about something that didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. His eyes lit up and his hands gestured widely and there was this little smile curling his lips, even when his mouth was opened wide with his words. Gerard found himself staring more than listening, so when Frank fell still and then blushed, he saw it plain as day. Gerard cleared his throat and looked down.

“What?” Frank asked.

“What what?” Gerard tried. Frank didn’t laugh.

“You were kinda staring, Dude.”

Gerard felt a blush creeping up his neck. He cleared his throat.

“I was not,” he argued.

Frank snorted. “You so were.” He framed his face with his hands like a camera’s viewfinder. “You want this pretty face.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah,” he said flatly. “You make me so horny, Frank. I want you so bad. Do it to me hard. Oh baby, oh baby.”

Frank burst into a fit of giggles, falling over onto the mattress. In spite of himself, Gerard smiled a little. He looked back down at his sketchbook and started on a few lines. Then a shadow fell over him, and he looked up.

Frank seemed much taller when he was standing up over you and you were sitting down, Gerard noticed.

“I could, y’know,” he said. Gerard blinked.

“Could what?”

Frank’s tongue appeared between his teeth as he grinned, then he said, “Do it to you hard.”

Gerard stared at his face, because if he didn’t, he’d look down at his crotch. He was waiting for Frank to giggle and say ‘I’m just fuckin’ with you’ and bound back over to the bed, the way he did whenever he tried to freak Mikey out. But that kept not happening now. Gerard offered a weak, nervous giggle, but still Frank’s expression didn’t change. Gerard’s mouth felt suddenly dry. He licked his lips, and swallowed hard. And fuck, he could practically _see_ the way Frank’s eyes darkened.

Then they were kissing.

And here was another thing: Frank was a good fucking kisser. Gerard was no stranger to making out. (Okay, he’d made out with, like, one person ever, other than Frank, but still.) He’d never gotten horny just from making out with someone before. Well, until now, anyway.

Frank slid onto Gerard’s lap, straddling his thighs. It felt precarious on the dilapidated desk chair he was sitting in, so Gerard pushed his sketchbook out of the way and gripped Frank’s hips. Frank made a little sound and pressed closer. Gerard knew the moment Frank felt his dick through their clothes, because he froze. It was only for a moment, but in that moment Gerard started mentally freaking out: Frank was going to realize what was happening, and he was going to stop, backpedal, and then he was either going to turn it into a joke or leave. Or both.

And Gerard shouldn’t care, really, he knew that, because that was exactly the kind of dick thing Frank would do. But he did care, because a part of him — the part that was driven by sexsexsex like any typical male brain — was realizing that this was the kind of making out that _led_ to sexsexsex, and he was so fucking ready (even if Frank wasn’t George or Liam or Eric).

Gerard curbed his freakout and looked up at Frank. He hadn’t moved his hips away, hadn’t stood up, hadn’t even pulled his face away. He was blurry-close, and Gerard could smell cigarettes on his breath. Frank was frowning at him thoughtfully, fingers pressing into Gerard’s shoulders. Then he grinned.

“You so fucking want this pretty face,” he said.

Then he palmed Gerard’s erection through his jeans. Gerard gasped and pressed up into his hand as well as he could on this stupid fucking chair. Frank cursed when they almost toppled.

“Fuck. We should get onto your friggin’ bed.”

Gerard nodded. Frank clambered off him, then took his hands and pulled him up. Gerard went easily — a little _too easily_ ; they almost fell over again. Frank giggled into Gerard’s hair. Gerard leaned back specifically to scowl at him. Frank kissed him quickly.

“Bed,” he repeated.

Frank stepped back and dodged the random shit strewn about Gerard’s floor. He was just about to the bed when he stepped on a pen cap. With a yelp, he fell onto the mattress — his grip on Gerard’s hand dragged Gerard down with him, and their heads collided with a _thunk_.

“Ow, _fuck_!” Gerard cursed. Frank started giggling again.

“Jesus, Dude, your room is a fucking mess.”

“Shut up,” Gerard grumped. He rubbed his head where it had bounced off Frank’s, scowling again. This was not how he’d envisioned his first time going.

“. . . This is your first time?”

Fuck, he’d said that out loud.

He blushed. “So?”

Frank eyed him. Then he broke out into a shitty cover of _Like a Virgin_.

Frank was a _dick_.

Gerard rolled his eyes and shoved away from Frank hard, even as he blushed brightly.

“Shut _up_ ,” he grumbled. He sat back against the wall, crossing his arms sullenly. “Not all of us can be slutty social butterflies like _you_ , Frank.”

Frank snickered, breaking off his off-key singing. “Don’t be a bitch,” he scolded, more amused than insulted. “Maybe I _like_ virgins.”

“Oh _really_ ,” Gerard said.

“ _Really_ ,” Frank replied. He climbed into Gerard’s lap, cupping his neck with both hands. He pressed a light kiss to Gerard’s lips. “I mean, think about it,” he said. “You don’t know what shit feels like yet.” He nudged the tip of his nose against Gerard’s, and his voice softened, lowered, grew husky in a way Gerard hadn’t realized it could. “Everything I do to you, you’ll feel it so intense.” He trailed his lips lightly against Gerard’s jaw, up to his ear, then slowly, so slowly, down the side of his neck. Gerard swallowed. “You’ll be so fucking responsive,” Frank added, and nipped a faint bruise into Gerard’s throat. Gerard gasped a little ‘ah!’ and tipped his head back. “Like that,” Frank agreed softly.

He pulled his head back to look at Gerard’s face, and Gerard realized that they’d been hitching their hips together steadily the entire time Frank’d been speaking. He blushed, but Frank just leaned in and coaxed Gerard’s mouth open for another kiss. When his tongue slipped in, Gerard slid his against it. Frank moaned. He deepened the kiss and returned his hand against Gerard’s dick. He rubbed the heel of his palm against him, until Gerard was cursing and demanding more.

“Pushy little shit,” Frank grumbled playfully against his lips.

“Fucking shut the fuck up and _fuck_ me,” Gerard growled. Frank moaned again.

“Yes, _please_.”

He pulled Gerard away from the wall, knee-walking backwards off his lap as he did. Gerard started to shift up onto his knees, but Frank pushed him down onto the mattress. Gerard grunted as he landed. He ended up almost fucking _sprawled_ on his side, head half-on his pillow and face pressed into his sheets.

“And you call _me_ pushy,” Gerard grumbled.

“Be more fucking cooperative, then!” Frank complained.

“I’m not a _mind-reader_ ,” Gerard snapped. “I don’t just _magically know_ how you want me to _move_.”

“Ugh, _fine_.” Frank straddled Gerard’s knees, kneeling above him. “On your back, preferably _naked_ , with my dick in your ass. Better?”

Gerard rolled his eyes, even as his dick twitched a little. He shifted around, and if his legs maybe sorta toppled Frank off him and Frank almost ran into the wall, well. It was totally an accident. Frank cursed and grumbled, but didn’t complain — probably realizing he’d brought it on himself, Gerard mused darkly. When Gerard was settled on his back, he reached down to unbutton his pants. Hey, Frank’d said ‘preferably naked.’ He stopped when Frank’s hands covered his, and he looked up just in time for Frank’s lips to meet his again.

And, okay. Making out was cool. Making out was, in fact, _awesome_. Frank was really fucking good at making out. Good enough that Gerard didn’t even realize Frank had gotten his pants open for him or his boxers out of the way until Frank’s hand was wrapped around his dick.

“Fuck,” Gerard gasped, and bit Frank’s lip in the process. “Shit, sorry.” (Frank didn’t seem to mind too much.)

This was definitely the first time anyone else had touched Gerard’s dick. Well, skin-to-skin, anyway. He definitely counted it as ‘touching’ when he’d been kneed in the crotch by that Lindsey chick when she’d caught him staring at her chest last semester. (He hadn’t been staring at her tits, okay, he was _gay_. Tits didn’t interest him. But she’d been wearing a Doctor Who shirt. Of _course_ he’d stared.) At least this was more enjoyable and a hell of a lot less painful.

It was . . . different. No shit: it wasn’t his own hand touching himself, of course it was different. But still. Frank’s hands were calloused in a way Gerard’s had never been. It was intense, the way they dragged up his skin like that, almost too rough but actually pretty fucking nice.

Frank kissed and nipped at Gerard’s lips before leaning back. “You have lube, right? I mean, you’re a virgin, you gotta jerk off all the time, right?”

God, what a fucking dick.

“Ugh,” Gerard said, and shoved him off. Frank grunted, but he let Gerard roll onto his side, and Gerard fished through the pile of laundry next to his bed (dick hanging out and everything, _God_ ) until he came out with a tube of KY and an unopened box of condoms. “Not a _word_ ,” Gerard warned as he handed both over to him.

Frank screwed his lips up to hide a grin. Gerard punched him in the thigh.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Frank said. He tucked his lips between his teeth and Gerard scowled at him for a few moments. As Frank uncapped the lube and slicked up his fingers, Gerard wormed his pants and boxers down his thighs. Frank waited relatively patiently.

Then he wrapped his hand around Gerard’s dick again and started pumping again. It was fucking smooth and Frank did something with his thumb that had Gerard gasping.

“Uh-huh,” the cocky little fuck said.

“Jesus, why the fuck am I having sex with you again?” Gerard ground out. He panicked again momentarily when Frank took his hand off his dick, but then he froze when he felt Frank’s lube-slicked finger circling his asshole.

“Because I’m a sexy motherfucker who knows what he’s doing?” he suggested. His voice was that low, husky thing it’d been earlier, and Gerard swallowed hard. Oh. Right.

“Okay, but,” Gerard tried, and Frank thrust his finger in. Gerard made a tiny sound, because _oh_. That was a little different. That was a _lot_ different.

“Jesus,” Frank whispered.

He thrust his finger in slowly, and Gerard’s body sorta got used to that sensation. Sorta. Until Frank added a second finger. Gerard gulped down a sound and cursed softly.

“Dude, relax,” Frank said.

“Uh-huh,” Gerard gasped out. Frank rolled his eyes a little. “Ugh, shut _up_.”

“I didn’t _say_ anything.”

“You were gonna,” Gerard insisted. Or, at least, he would have. Except Frank did something with his _fingers_ and Gerard gasped and cursed and his spine arched like his body was beyond his control. “Oh my— _fuck_!” He gripped Frank’s thigh with one hand while the other wrapped around his dick, squeezing slightly.

Frank moaned a little. “Yeah, see?” He started humming _Like a Virgin_ again, even as he added a third finger (what the fuck, how did that even _fit_ oh my _god_ ) and kept touching that _spot_.

“Shut up, oh my god, shut _up_ ,” Gerard moaned. It probably lacked all conviction thanks to Frank’s fingers working fucking _magic_. He tried to spread his legs, tried to encourage _more_ somehow, but his fucking pants got in the way. He groaned and Frank giggled.

“Like I said, ‘preferably naked.’ ”

Gerard grumbled, then let out an embarrassing little squeak when Frank pulled his fingers out. Remarkably, Frank didn’t tease him about it. He just grabbed Gerard’s pants and boxers and pulled them off for him. That done, he stripped off his own shirt and tossed it aside. Gerard couldn’t help but notice the little flame tattoo near his left nipple. He stared at it for a moment, then belatedly started squirming out of his own shirt.

He felt a little weird doing it. They’d seen each other shirtless before, in passing, but back then, Frank had been chubby. Now, Frank was kinda small, and even though Gerard knew it was because he’d gotten over a wicked case of pneumonia only a few months ago, he still felt a little self-conscious about his own pudginess. Frank didn’t seem to notice or mind, though. He ran his hand up Gerard’s thigh, to his hip. His thumb brushed against the cut of bone, there, then he leaned down and kissed the center of Gerard’s chest.

“You doin’ okay?” he asked. Gerard swallowed.

“I, uh. Yeah.” He swallowed again, and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Frank nodded against Gerard’s skin, then leaned back up again. He unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned his pants. Gerard’s eyes fell to his hands, and when Frank pushed down his jeans, Gerard could see his erection pressing against his black briefs. Once his jeans were off his legs and tossed to the floor to join is shirt, he worked on his briefs. Gerard couldn’t help but stare a little bit.

“Jesus, we’re really doing this,” he whispered. He didn’t even realize he’d said it aloud until Frank grinned.

“I hope so. We got this far, y’know?”

He leaned over Gerard again, kissing him almost _chastely_. He licked his way into Gerard’s mouth, and fuck, it was so not fair that Frank was such a great kisser. Gerard moaned, then again when Frank’s hips settled against his, bringing their dicks into full contact. He shuddered and pressed up against him.

“ _Fuck_ , Frank.”

“Mm-hmm,” Frank agreed. He nuzzled into Gerard’s neck, then once more pulled back. Gerard made a mournful sound. Frank grinned. “You want me to fuck you, or what?”

“How romantic,” Gerard said wryly.

Frank rolled his eyes, but he giggled. He situated himself between Gerard’s legs (though not without almost falling over again, thanks to Gerard totally not figuring out what he was trying to do until Frank cursed). After a moment of frustrated giggles and annoyed cussing, Frank slipped a finger back into Gerard. Gerard bit his lip, but it was easier, now. He knew what to expect, and he relaxed faster. When Frank found that spot again, Gerard rolled his hips downward, pulling his finger in deeper. He squeezed his eyes shut, panting heavily.

“Fuck, yeah,” Frank murmured. His voice was huskier than before; Gerard shuddered to hear it. He opened his eyes in time to see Frank tug on his balls once. Then Frank pulled away again. It looked way too easy to get the condom on once the box was opened, but hey, Frank was sort of a slut, so maybe he had lots of practice.

Frank slicked his dick up with lube, but his eyes were on Gerard. There was something different about them, and Gerard was focused enough on figuring it out that he totally didn’t expect the soft way Frank said,

“Hey, this is pro’ly gonna hurt a little.” He was chewing on the corner of his lip, and Gerard wet his lips.

“Like, how much?” Gerard asked.

Frank lifted one shoulder. “I mean, not, like, a _lot_. It’s different for everyone, I guess.” He slid his hand down the inside of Gerard’s thigh. “I’ll, uh. I’ll try to be careful?”

Gerard swallowed. “Thanks.”

Frank blushed a bit (what the fuck, seriously?) and nodded. He cleared his throat, then hesitated. “Hey, gimme that pillow.”

Gerard froze. “What? Why?”

He tried to sound casual, but maybe he sorta had this irrational fear of someone smothering him with a pillow. Apparently he failed at that whole Joe Cool thing, because Frank rolled his eyes.

“I’m not gonna put it on your face, Dude, just gimme it.”

Gerard made a face, but he tugged the pillow out from under his head. Frank took it and set it next to Gerard’s hips. He tapped Gerard’s leg

“Here, lift up.”

“Why?” Gerard said again.

“Ugh, are you going to question _everything_ I do?”

Gerard glared. “ _Yes_.”

“I’m trying to make it more _comfortable_ for you, Asshole.”

“. . . With a pillow under my ass?”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jesus. It, it changes the angle and makes it, like, better.”

. . . Better was always good. Gerard still made a slightly uncertain face, but he braced his hands and feet against the bed and lifted his hips up. It was sorta embarrassing to think about, how he probably looked really fucking stupid with his dick hard and lifting up his hips while Frank knelt between his legs. But Frank quickly shifted the pillow under him, and Gerard lowered himself onto it without any teasing or fussing from Frank.

He took a moment to adjust to the new position. Frank rested his hands on Gerard’s raised knees. Frank gave him a look, as if to say ‘Told you so.’ Gerard ignored it in favor of adjusting his feet so Frank could settle closer to him. Frank reached between them and slowly pumped Gerard’s dick again. He had that same serious look as before. Gerard’s stomach flipped a little in response to it, and he mentally slapped himself.

“Okay?” Frank said softly. Gerard swallowed, but nodded. Frank pumped himself again, once, twice, then leaned over Gerard and—

“Oh _fuck_.”

They said it at almost the same time, but Gerard was pretty sure it was for different reasons. Jesus, Frank’s dick felt _way fucking bigger_ than three fingers. He panted heavily, and his hand gripped Frank’s arm.

“Wait, _wait_ ,” he managed.

“I know, I know.” Frank sounded strained. “Dude, relax, okay? Fucking _breathe_.”

Gerard tried that out, that whole relaxing and breathing thing. He bit his lips, and maybe, okay. Maybe this was working. He opened his mouth to say something, but Frank started moving again, just pressing in slowly. (Gerard made him stop twice more before Frank was flush against him, and Frank cursed softly both times, but he _did_.) Then Frank just held still, and it took a moment before Gerard realized that _Frank_ was the one trembling finely. One of his hands was gripping Gerard’s hip, but the other was pressed against the mattress, holding him up off Gerard’s chest. Gerard could feel himself squeezing around Frank’s dick. _Shit_ this was kind of intense.

“Fuck,” Frank whispered. He dropped his forehead to Gerard’s clavicle. His arms shifted, until he was propped on both elbows, and his hands gripped Gerard’s shoulders. Gerard wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he slid them over Frank’s back, slowly. “Jesus, Gerard, fucking tight.”

“Ngh,” Gerard replied. He breathed deeply, trying to relax again. Frank moaned deep in his throat (fuck, that was a fucking beautiful sound). Gerard could feel his breath fanning against his skin. His fingers tightened against Frank’s back for a moment.

“Okay?” Frank tried. Gerard nodded.

Slowly, Frank hitched his hips in a shallow thrust. Gerard swallowed, but a gasp still squeezed out. Frank thrust again; this time, he pulled back a bit further. And then he kept doing that, until Gerard got used to that there’s-something-inside-me feeling again. When he did, he turned his head and pressed his lips against Frank’s temple. Frank trailed his lips up Gerard’s throat in response, until his mouth found Gerard’s.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to get sloppy, and when it did, Frank’s thrusts grew deeper. Gerard’s dick slid against Frank’s stomach with each thrust. He groaned. He rolled his hips, meeting Frank’s next thrust, and oh _fuck_.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Gerard gasped. His lifted his arms above his head and tangled his fingers in the sheets so he wouldn’t do something awkward, like pinch the fuck out of Frank. He turned his face into his bicep, and his legs tightened around Frank’s waist.

Frank thrust in harder, and a bit faster. He was raised up again, arms braced on either side of Gerard’s body.

“ _Fuck, Jesus_ ,” he agreed.

Each thrust pushed another gasp or moan from Gerard’s throat. He rolled his body against Frank’s, finding a rhythm with him, and Frank groaned.

“Jesus, not teasing you ever again,” he ground out. Gerard wanted to point out that he was a dirty rotten liar, but words seemed to be escaping him.

Pretty soon, it wasn’t just words, but fucking _everything_. Frank leaned back, kneeling between Gerard’s legs and holding onto his knees and fucking _fucking_ him, and the angle was fucking _perfect_ , and he was _dying_ , okay, Gerard was _dying_.

He was also talking. Maybe. Babbling through the sharp cries that could’ve been Frank’s name, or encouragement, or random curse words, or fuck, maybe he was quoting movies or songs, he didn’t fucking _know_ , anymore. His eyes were squeezed shut, but they snapped open when Frank’s hand wrapped around his dick again. Then Gerard was thrusting down to meet Frank’s hips and up to meet his hand, and shit, this was fucking _amazing_.

His orgasm fucking snuck up on him. He jerked as he came, clamping down on Frank and making Frank gasp and fall still. Even his hand stopped pumping him, and Gerard whined and reached down. He tangled his fingers with Frank’s and jacked himself off. Slowly, Frank started thrusting again. A zing of pleasure shot through Gerard and his dick managed one more valiant spurt. Frank swore, and he leaned over Gerard again. He thrust once, twice, four more times before coming, too.

His hips moved erratically through his orgasm, but then he lowered himself onto Gerard. They lay there, sweaty and trembling, for several moments, with only the sound of their slowly steadying breathing for company.

Gerard felt Frank’s lips on his throat in a gentle kiss, and he hummed. He lowered his arms to wrap around Frank’s shoulders.

“Jesus,” he whispered. Frank chuckled.

“Not bad, huh?”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Ugh, you’re fucking hopeless, Frank.”

Frank snickered, but he leaned up, looking down at Gerard almost . . . shit, almost _fondly_. Gerard watched him, then blushed. Frank just leaned down and kissed him lightly.

“Lemme go get a washcloth.”

He reached down between them and gripped the base of the condom before pulling out — slowly, thank _God_ , because Gerard felt totally fucking used. He was going to be sore tomorrow, he just knew it.

While Frank disappeared into the bathroom, Gerard stretched and wriggled, then he slumped back against the mattress. After a moment’s thought, he tugged his pillow out from under his hips and pulled it up under his head, instead. Frank came back in with a wet washcloth, and it was warm when he ran it gently over Gerard’s stomach and dick, cleaning him. Then he folded it dirty-side in and tossed it onto Gerard’s dirty laundry pile.

Frank climbed back onto the bed, over Gerard and onto his other side, and wrapped around him. Gerard turned his head to look at him.

“You’re staying?” He winced a little when he sounded surprised, but he sorta _was_.

“Mm,” Frank said eloquently. “Mind?”

Gerard considered, then shook his head. “ ’S long as you don’t sing that fucking song anymore.”

Frank giggled, arms tightening around Gerard’s middle. Then he kissed Gerard’s shoulder.

“Can’t, Numb-nuts. You’re _not_ , anymore.”


End file.
